Sore Spot
by Whoaa Kayy
Summary: Questions flooded her mind, like why wasn't he yelling at her for invading his personal things, or what did being sighted have to do with his dreams? Maybe they were her dreams, too, but with this Auggie—the one that saw her for exactly who she was.


**A/N: **Hello again! I hope you all are enjoying the four episodes of Covert Affairs as much as I am. I swear, every Monday night I feel like it's Christmas Eve and I'm six again, lol. I can't wait for the 24th, because that's going to be Auggie's Episode!

Yes, it deserves to be capitalized.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about and are suddenly insanely jealous that I know what's going to happen in an episode we haven't even seen the previews for yet you should go look for Christopher Gorham's interview on The Late Show with Craig Ferguson. He gives us the inside scoop. :D

I'm also just beginning to write _another _FanFiction for that episode-at least, for all that he's told us about it so far. You might hate me for it, lol.

Alright, well! This story _started _as something funny, got sad and serious-because I just couldn't help myself. I write angsty stuff so much better than light and happy-and then I tried to get it back to happy-with-a-tear-in-your-eye.

You'll have to tell me if I did it right. XD

Okay, now. I know you all know from a previous **A/N **that I don't like to thank people for reviewing, just for reading, but seriously guys...reviews are awesome. I know all you fellow writers absolutely love getting a good review-or even a bad one, for some of you, a review's a review!-so why can't we all give them a little more? I'm saying this because I have gotten a plentiful amount of favorites for my newest one-shot "Burned Walls" but hardly any reviews, and to be honest that upsets me. I want feedback on what I'm doing wrong or right, wouldn't you?

Anyway, I don't own Covert Affairs or anything relating to the story. If Christopher Gorham reads this (by any impossible chance of hope) I know I can't own you because your wife already does, but once they legalize human cloning, you better be the first in line. ;D

I hope you enjoy! (Rated T for safety purposes. ;D)

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"Just don't...touch anything." He said cautiously, tiredly, like he was talking to a small, incompetent child. She rolled her eyes, despite his lack of sight, and huffed indignantly. "I'll be right back, Joan just wants to fill me in on the technology you'll need for this assignment. I shouldn't be more than a few minutes."

She'd never seen him act like this, she thought as she watched him throw a pained, anxious look in the direction of his computers. She followed his gaze to the multitude of high tech gadgets scattered over his big desk. Auggie had a system going on, she realized, no matter how disorganized a system it may be. Her heart clenched painfully for a moment, how could Auggie think she would mess this up for him? That'd be torture.

"I won't," she finally said, smiling slightly. "I promise."

He seemed to relax at her words, but his forehead was still scrunched in apprehension as he slowly backed away. "Just a few minutes," he said again.

"I'll be here!" She called as he finally turned around, raising her hand in a small farewell. She turned to his desk and sighed, trying to busy herself with leaning down and examining some of the cooler looking gadgets where they lay on his desk. She didn't want to pick them up for fear of putting it back in the wrong spot and having him get mad. Her mind wandered though, back to the compromising mood she had found herself in all day.

She was bored, excruciatingly so.

Her eyes wandered around the empty room innocently, taking in the stucco ceiling, fluorescent lights, and blue monitor screens surrounding her. She glanced out at the office on the other side of the glass wall, delighted to find no one paying any attention to her.

Grinning childishly, she moved his mouse. The slight movement making the sleepy, dark blue screen jump to life.

A white background greeted her with a black, sketched lamp post hovering over a cobble-stone road in the lower right hand corner. A silhouette was leaning against it, outlined with the classic shapes of a trench coat and fedora hat. Its arm was poised carelessly in the air, a cigarette dangling between its fingers with the smoke circling up lazily way past where the monitor cut the image off.

She had never seen anything like it before. It was breath-taking.

She cleared her throat and shook herself out of her awe-induced stupor. Risking another glance to make sure the coast was still clear, she clicked on one of the many folders on his desktop, not bothering to read its name.

She scrutinized the contents greedily, making a disgusted sound shortly after.

Tax returns. Borrring.

She closed that folder and took a closer look at his desktop, skimming briefly over all the folders until one caught her eye.

She clicked on a pretty promising file named "Free Time". Suddenly, rows after rows of Word documents appeared, all titled differently ranging from dated grocery lists to confusing dreams. She bit her lip and looked toward Joan's office again, just to make sure she wouldn't get caught unknowingly. She didn't want to invade his private thoughts too much, so she clicked on a document simply labeled "Bored".

Because that's exactly how she felt right now, and if anyone could take her mind off things it was most definitely a bored Auggie.

She began reading a story, but as she read on her eyes only got wider. Chewing on her lip and scratching the back of her calf nervously as her eyes continued down the page, she finally couldn't take it anymore and exited the document.

Auggie was a brilliant writer, she thought as she shifted uncomfortably in his chair and tugged at her shirt nervously. He had a most descriptive imagination, too, she noted as she cleared her throat and purposely ran her fingers through her hair.

She distracted herself—and the sudden inapt thoughts running happily around her mind—with scrolling through the other files, pausing on one that read "I'm Sorry".

Intrigued, she started to read, but she didn't get through the first paragraph without tears in her eyes.

_"There are days when I gaze upon the darkness, and I can only think of the deep sorrow inside me. Not for myself, for now I'm just a lowly closet case too incapable to babysit, but for the ones I've inflicted pain upon, made some of the most unbearable sobs rack your body. My family, my friends, my love. You're not who you used to be anymore, and if you ever realize that, make sure you blame me."_

Annie choked subconsciously, her eyes burning. What was this, some kind of letter? Surely it wasn't—

She shook her head and kept reading, not really caring who was watching her now.

_"My brothers, so mean and spiteful used to be. You teased and wailed on me mercilessly; managing to chase away every girl I've ever brought home. You took every drink I ordered on my 21st birthday away claiming I was still a baby, drinking it for yourself. I had to pay each of your separate cab fares home. Do you remember?_

_Now you're all weak, spineless even. You cried, each and every one of you, at the foot of my bed. You waited on me hand and foot, never mind your wives and your children. I was in the hospital; disabled. You couldn't be bothered with them._

_The four men that wept at my bed were strangers. They still are. When you find my brothers again, let me know._

_My mother, how strong and happy you were once upon a time. You used to glow, like Earth's own little celestial star given to us as a most prized gift. Your smile was perfection, I know because it never once left your wondrous face shaped so much like my own. Do you remember?_

_Now you cry, I can hear it in your voice. You never seem to stop, not even for a second. I feel the heaviness, the uneasiness around you whenever you tend to my every guilty, frustrated whim. A storm brews around you. A sad, pitying storm._

_I miss the perfection. The warm, buzzing ball of energy that used to engulf you. My mother, tall beacon of strength, happiness, and love, is gone._

_My friends, what fun we had. Shopping with you, Jessica and Ashley, was actually more fun than I let on. If I outwardly enjoyed myself, I knew it wouldn't be half as fun for you anymore, so I stayed silent. You girls are beautiful, I never got to tell you that. John and Matt, girl watching with you was the greatest, not to mention test driving all the latest sports cars...which was the same thing, really._

_But where are you now, every one of you that made me enjoy my life? You're watching me from afar, like some disease you're too frightened to approach. I'm not a freak show, so I don't understand why I was suddenly alienated as one."_

Annie squeezed her eyes shut tight, denying the hot tears that were racing down her cheeks at an alarming rate. Where was Auggie; what was taking him so long in Joan's office? Though it didn't matter, she couldn't unread what she just read.

"Poor Auggie," she murmured before she could stop herself. How could one person be put through all that? He was _blind_ for goodness sake. It's not like he was a quadriplegic with a disfigured face.

"Yes, poor Auggie." She heard a rough, furious voice spit from behind her. She gasped and turned to see him standing directly behind her, putting his headphones back around his neck. "You want to tell me what you're doing, Annie?"

She opened her mouth, making a small strangled noise instead of speaking like she wanted. She was about to try again when he cleared his throat expectantly, impatiently, effectively shutting her up.

"Well?" He gritted out. His knuckles were white from gripping his laser cane so tightly, and his dark, usually warm eyes were hard and cold as stone.

"I...I got...bored." She said lamely.

For a moment, just for a fraction of a second, a smile flitted across his lips.

"Well," he muttered darkly, "leave it to you to be the only adult to still get in trouble when you're _bored_."

He leaned against his desk and sighed, exhaustion evident as he ran his hand over his face roughly.

"I didn't mean to," she mumbled somberly, looking down at her wringing hands, "I was just—"

"Bored, you said that already." He said quietly.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't looking for anything private, I just clicked on the file that said bored and I had to—"

Slowly, one of his signature, crooked grins consumed his features. His eyes lit up and he folded his arms over his chest, trying to contain his laughter.

"I still have that?" He asked himself. Her jaw went slack and she unconsciously crossed her legs. "That's been on there for what, half a year now?"

"Yes, you still have that." She managed, pulling hard on her skirt. He leaned toward her and smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"How're you doing?" He asked smoothly, the laughter shaking his voice barely detectable. She punched his shoulder, making him wince and then grin once again.

"That letter," she started quietly, making his smile slip off his face. "That wasn't a—"

"No," he said suddenly, squeezing the gripmaster he had picked up off his desk. "It's just one of those things I like to write when I wish I could tell them all the things they won't listen to. I save it for the false hope that someday they'll all read it." He stared, unfocused, at nothing in particular. "Just can't seem to let myself get rid of it."

"I don't pity you, Aug." She blurted. "I never could, I just can't believe you went through all that. It must've been so awful..."

Her confession hung in the air dolefully as Auggie fell deeper and deeper into his memories. He shook his head after a moment, clearing it, and smiled at her devilishly.

Suddenly, he towered over her, resting both his hands on either side of her chair. He heard her breath hitch as he reached up and brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek.

"I always wish I could see you. Maybe then my dreams would become a reality..."

Tons of questions flooded Annie's mind then, like why was he teasing her when he should be yelling at her in front of everybody for intruding on his personal thoughts, or what did being sighted have to do with his dreams?

Maybe they were her dreams, too, but with this Auggie—the one that saw her for exactly who she was.

All of these would probably be wonderful things to ask him, each potentially ensuing a different outcome. However she remained stunned, silent, and still as he leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

"Now," he murmured. It was like nothing she ever felt before, the way he moved his soft lips against hers as he spoke. It was like he was kissing her passionately, headily, unendingly. She wanted to respond, to kiss him back and _show_ him just how effective his "bored" words really were, but she remained frozen: willing her eyes to stay open and not drift blissfully closed like they so badly wanted to do. "Everyone in the office is staring at us, I know because if you listen you'll find the entire Department is now silent—a truly unnatural state, if you ask me."

"I didn't," she couldn't stop herself from saying. He smiled cheekily in reply, the sensation almost making her snap and jump him right then and there.

"Would you mind giving me back my computer?" He asked her, a slight teasing tone playing at the edge of his voice. She blinked, astonished, before nodding dumbly. "Fantastic, in your own time then."

Before she pulled away she tested herself, throwing every ounce of her courage into pressing her lips into his ever so slightly, actually kissing him—but only just.

He groaned quietly, tilting his head for better access, but he didn't kiss her back. Instead, after a moment, he pulled away; crossing his arms again and waiting patiently for her to vacate his chair.

She ducked out as quickly as possible, trying her best to stay calm about what just happened until she was alone. Auggie had never acted like that before, but as she neared the bathroom she could almost figure out why.

Hot anger had been rolling off him in waves, she remembered as she suppressed a shudder. She could almost feel each and every one of them crash into her when he was—

She shook her head: no gushing.

He did this on purpose, she finally decided. The only thing that "bored" story couldn't effect would probably be an asexual, cold blooded animal who didn't understand English. She bet he knew exactly what it did to her, and he manipulated his anger to hit her right in her sore spot.

Oh, payback's a bitch, she thought heatedly as she slammed the bathroom door.

Auggie sighed as he reclined back in his chair, ignoring the looks of adoration he could feel boring into him from all his male coworkers. He tapped a few buttons and put his headphones on, muting the rest of the world.

_"My love, how beautiful I just know you are. You've seen so little of this horrible world, yet I'm sure you've seen more than I ever had. You're so naive, so young and full of life, bursting to share it with anyone you meet—even me. I wish I knew you before, but something inside me wonders if you'd reject me like the rest did. I don't think you would, for your heart's too good for that, but the thought does come across my mind here and there._

_You may never love me, but I don't expect you to. I only ask of you to never leave my side. For the first time since the accident I have felt love. Pure, consoling, unconditional love. It has touched me in ways that have never reached me before. The first moment I met you I heard the teasing in the back of my mind; light, playful, and jeering banter. I felt that star, humming to life once again. I saw the clothes and the cars. For the first time my old life touched me, just for a second, when you touched my hand."_

He looked in the direction that she'd left, faint traces of her perfume dancing just out of reach of his nose. He smiled and reached for his keyboard.

_"You have given me love, life, and warmth, Annie Walker, and now I know you'll never leave me out in the cold."_

_

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**A/N: **A lot of you might be wondering why I named this story "Sore Spot", and I'll tell you. Auggie obviously hits Annie's current sore spot by teasing her. How does this sore spot title relate to Auggie though? Well think about it, Auggie's the type of man that hates to be pitied. He thinks he's competent, capable, and as "No Quarter" says, knows better than the Agency. His sore spot would obviously be anyone-especially Annie-pitying him. I just wanted to clear that up, because it took_ forever _to figure out a name for this thing. XD

Thanks for reading!


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